The Shadows of Dimbor
by Ikku
Summary: (Zork)Strange things begin brewing in the Flathead Mountains causing Dimbor and Althin to flee. They soon discover that this means much more than it seems.
1. Chapter 1: The Return

Small note from me:  
  
This is my first Zork fan fic (actually my first fan fic ever) so please don't criticize me for bad writing. The title sorta sounds like the one from a Lord of the Rings game, but it's in no way related. I am good at coming up with stories; it's just putting them into words that's the problem. Oh yeah, and I was also thinking of doing a prequel to this later, just to clear things up.   
  
  
The Shadows of Dimbor  
Chapter 1: The Return  
  
Dimbor awoke early in the morning, four thirty-two to be exact, on Ottobur 13, 1378 GUE to find the television on. He sneered. Another Antharia Jack rerun. As he reached from his chair to turn it off, he remembered turning it off before he went to sleep the night before. Snoring was coming from beside him. 'Zordir the old fool! How many times have I told him to stay in his room at night?! The ass must have turned on the TV.'  
  
He shook Zordir awake and kicked him. "What're you doing in here? And why'd you leave the TV on? We can't have that..."  
  
"Well, sir, I couldn't sleep. I kept hearing strange noises from outside that reminded me of...I didn't turn the TV on! Honest! It's not on now. I just came in to sleep with you to protect me!"  
  
Dimbor glowed of a smile that betrayed his anger...and fear. Zordir was about to speak of that dark night many ages ago. But that is a story for another time.  
  
"Well I guess I understand...but what noises do you speak of? I heard nothing. Could it be..."  
  
"I think it is," Zordir cut in. "The noises were like those of the...I shall not say. But you know what I speak of. Could we get some light in here?"  
  
"But of course." Dimbor lit the lights to reveal a small entry room to the house with a cot in one corner and a TV in the other. There was a large recliner in front of the TV where Dimbor had been sleeping and a couple fur tapestries on the walls. "Now tell m-"  
  
Dimbor was interrupted by a knock on the door. He went to answer it, passing the shaky Zordir. There was no one at the door, but he got that strange sense. Quickly, he grabbed his hat from the rack and changed clothes. He was tightening his coat when he came up to Zordir. "Get a few things. We're traveling light."  
  
"What is it master?"  
  
"No time to explain. Grab your coat and change. We have to get out now."  
  
Zordir met his master outside who was running for the woods surrounding the small house. He caught up to Dimbor and tried to get him to explain what was going on.  
  
"Remember what happened long ago?" Zordir nodded. "It's returned. We must get to Port Foozle. Maybe we can get to Antharia from there. It would be the safest place."  
  
By light, they were well away from the woods surrounding their home. They lived in the Flathead Mountains, north of the White House. At the pace they were going, Dimbor and Zordir could reach the Frigid River by high noon and take a rest nearby. Zordir suggested they kept going until they reached Flood Control Dam #3 and set up for the night.  
  
Zordir knew little of what was actually going on, but he just went along with his master, hoping to find the answers somewhere along the road. There we no orcs, no trolls, no barbarians...no evil presence at all. Yet Dimbor pushed on, full of fear and anger.  
  
"We'll probably have to rebuild our house. I don't reckon any of them wanted to leave it standing."  
  
"Well, at least they think we're dead huh?"  
  
Dimbor gritted his teeth. "Yeah...they think we were in there...most...like..ly..." He broke off, seeing the River. "Come on, we're making excellent progress. They'll never catch up."  
  
After a refreshing lunch of wild plants and a splash into the icy water, they were ready to continue. A thick haze was beginning to cloud their vision. Somehow, they trailed off the river's path and found themselves a little lost in a nearby forest.  
  
Suddenly, Zordir remembered the tale of the legend of Zork. The lone adventurer traveling through the woods around the White House and entering the underground, the treasure-hunter and wizard defeater. The one who became the Second Dungeon Master. But the chances of this being the same wood were slim to none. Then again, it was near the same location, and it certainly seemed possible.  
  
They found the White House without too much trouble. The open window on the east side let them in and they took a nice long rest. Camped for the night in fact. They had to leave a light on to ward off grues, but it was no trouble.  
  
The next day, they made it to Port Foozle without any more occurrence other than the strange sounds in the early morning. At the bar is where it all got stranger.  
  
When they walked in, all seemed normal. A few men drinking their life away...a couple gamblers, and an old man on a computer in the corner. There was a television set hanging on the wall. The broadcast read:  
  
Yesterday, we received word that an old house in the Flathead Mountains burned down. It probably was intentional, but it could be accidental. No one was seen fleeing from the house. The occupants Dimbor and Zordir are presumed dead, but we have no certain evidence. In other news...  
  
Zordir grinned at Dimbor, "They think us dead!" he said in a hush whisper. "We're free to leave without anyone noticing us!"  
  
Dimbor gritted his teeth into a smile. "Yeah..." They went and ate and drank until nightfall. The old man never got up from the computer, and he didn't look like he was doing anything. No one took notice and just had a good time.  
  
At closing time, they were referred to a local inn and went there to sleep. In the middle of the night, Dimbor woke up in a cold, trembling sweat. The clock on the wall read 2:04. It was earlier than last time, but the strangest thing had happened. The TV was on. He woke Zordir and got dressed. They were leaving for Antharia on the next boat.  
  
There they sat, in the dead of the night, freezing on the docks. Out cold. The last thoughts of Zordir before he went out were, 'They've returned.' 


	2. Chapter 2: The Awakening

Small note from me:  
  
So you actually decided to read this one? Well, I'll be introducing some new characters here, and reveal much more of the backstory as I go along. Again, no criticism against any bad writing. I'm still new to this! Sorry to leave you hanging at the end, if you really care.  
  
  
The Shadows of Dimbor  
Chapter 2: The Awakening  
  
No! No! Don't come closer...you don't want me! Althin was running in a dark void, trapped in his own mind. He was being chased by a dark figure of an old man, down an endless path of darkness. Althin found himself falling, tripped over an unseen stone. The shadow overtook him and the screams of anguish that followed died out in a last gasp.  
  
He found himself again sleeping in front of the tavern, with a few scraps of cloth hardly wrapped around him. It was his favorite blanket; one his family had made during the Inquisition, long passed.  
  
He stood up and put his blanket in his sack, and scratched his head. In the pale light of the moon, he saw the tavern's door opened. With the TV on. He stared at the door for a while, then went inside. The television was on channel 999, with weird images that look like they come from the Asylum.  
  
A book was open on the table, "My Greatest Excesses," by Lord Dimwit Flathead. "and then I named myself the most excessive Flathead of them all. The End."  
  
The old man was still sitting in the corner, not moving. Althin moved over to his chair, and the old man slumped back...to reveal his face...his face! Eyeless sockets staring into nothingness...no nose, as if it were torn clean off...mouth open as if in a silent scream! He was drenched in a black blood, with his ears sliced into pieces in his hands.  
  
Althin, sensing no danger from the man, shuddered, and looked on to the computer screen. Instead of the normal blue blankness, there was a document open, with a strange message, "Dockside...have them...no escape...Antharia...Sea of Void...dumped them...two months..."  
  
It didn't make much sense at the time, being no "Sea of Void" in Zork, and no reference to who "them" was. Yet there was something strangely deceiving going on, all within the context of his dream. His dream seemed to have some notion in it...relating itself to his current confusion. But he could not decide if it were foreshadowing something, or merely metaphoric.  
  
As dawn crept in over the horizon, the computer went back to its normal blank blueness, and the TV changed to channel 14, showing the local news. There was a clamor from somewhere, and Althin went outside. Well, he thought to himself, I've got nothing much to lose...and I'm curious as to what this all means. Whatever happens to me can't be any worse than living my life the way it is. I may even save someone.  
  
He went down to the docks, where an early morning boater was preparing to leave. "Aye there, can I help you?" the boater politely addressed Althin.  
  
"Actually, yes. I would like to know where you're headed first."  
  
"I's going to Antharia, but I heard something's gone wrong over there. The people aren't very open to visitors anymore. So I thought I'd head to the Westlands for a nice quiet vacation."  
  
So that message does mean something. "I need a ride to Antharia...I was wondering if you could take me there?"  
  
"Oh, no. You know what they're doin' down there? I hear the people gone savage, eating unwelcome guests. You'd havta pay me a load of Zorkmids to even pass within sight of the shores."  
  
"Are you sure? I'd give you fifteen Zorkmids if you take me within a mile or two of shore...I can swim."  
  
"Definitely not. I'm not letting a young'n like yourself end up in the fires of their pits. It would be murder taking you near the water, if that's what you're plannin on."  
  
"Sir, I have nothing to lose. They take me, I'm gone. No one cares...who'd miss me? This may be important."  
  
"If that's your attitude, I'll do it for free. But may Yoruk have mercy on your soul."  
  
After about half an hour, they set off. It was a slow and tedious journey, with nothing other than conversation to pass the time.  
  
"Why do ya want to go to Antharia? It's hell they say. Never been worse in Zork. First, there were those two guys laying on the docks back there," said the boater, "I don't fully understand meself. They say that there were two guys out there, looked like they were freezin to death. But they were more like sleepin, yet they were incorporeal or whatevers they call it. Not solid. After a few hours shadows surrounded them and they vanished. But why do you want to go?"  
  
"I don't really know," said Althin. "It's just, something is bringing me there. Could be just curiosity. But who were these guys on the dock?"  
  
"The thing is, before we could identifies thems, they vanished. We thinks they're ghosts from that house in mountains. Anyways, that's not the scary part. We found some strange things washed up from Antharia on the beach. Strange bodies, with parts missin from them."  
  
***  
  
"Wake up Zordir! Wake up!"  
  
Zordir tried to lift himself up, but he couldn't tell the ground from the roof. He tried rubbing the grogginess out of his eyes, but it wouldn't go away. Then he realized why.  
  
He was underwater, upside down, and chained to a rock. There was a faint glow coming from below, or above really, but it seemed dark inside and outside the water.  
  
When he discovered this he began to realize his lungs. They were functioning normally, as if he were in the air. He always knew his master could do this, but Zordir never once thought he could. In an instant his thoughts turned to his master.  
  
Dimbor was nowhere in sight. 


End file.
